


Chocolat Noir

by ryukoishida



Series: You Are the Cream in my Coffee [5]
Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Past Relationship(s), Prequel, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryukoishida/pseuds/ryukoishida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are supposed to come up with a dessert menu that goes with espresso drinks. Instead, they wind up getting distracted by half-made pastries and each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolat Noir

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my coffee shop AU series. Or maybe more of a prequel/outtake?

            “Do you think lemon meringue will go well with coffee?” Haruka lets out a yawn, the hand that’s supposed to be taking notes has long discarded its initial task and has been doodling cake designs on the margins for the past twenty minutes. He puts his head between his hands, elbow supported on the tabletop, and he looks over to see the red-haired man scribbling madly in his own notebook, thin brows furrowed in deep concentration.

 

            The enticing scent of coffee and melting chocolate mixed with various fruity aromas fill Haruka’s studio apartment, a small, archaic room barely furnished with a creaky single bed, a desk that also acts as the dining table, two rickety chairs, and a lamp that sometimes flickers for no apparent reason.

 

            Clearly, Haruka didn’t pick this location for its prime décor; yet despite the ratty appearance and yellowing walls with peeling paint, the studio has a surprisingly spacious corner as its kitchen and is adequately equipped with a counter for food preparation and a stove-plus-oven, the model of which can only be evident that the previous boarder was either in the food industry or was a culinary lover.

 

            At this very moment, an espresso machine is plugged in and mugs of half-drank and long-cooled coffees sit on the counter or in the sink. Plates and bowls with various ingredients are stacked hazardously everywhere, and bits of cut up fruits, nuts, and chocolates are littered all over the tabletop, which will require a very thorough clean-up later on lest the miniature feast invites bugs that Haruka definitely doesn’t want to deal with.

 

            “That’s disgusting, Haru,” Rin frowns just at the thought of the combination. “Coffee’s already bitter enough as it is; you want to add sourness to it as well? Celeste would kill us for killing her taste buds.”

 

            “Then I’m all out of ideas,” Haruka shrugs, throwing his pencil down in resignation as he stands up for a stretch, his joints cracking at the motion. Glancing at the clock hanging on the opposite wall, Haruka notices that they have been at it for five hours; it is now nearly two in the morning, and the chilled air of the night does not get chased away by the pathetic central heating system of the apartment building. He wraps his wool cardigan more tightly around himself, even though it’s already buttoned up to the very top.

 

            “You’re not even trying!” Rin protests, not looking up to see the way the dark-haired man shivers as he walks over to the windows that overlook the back alley to make sure they’re shut for the third time that night.

 

            “I can’t think in this cold,” he replies, then in a smaller voice, “Where does the breeze even come from?” He murmurs mostly to himself, teeth chattering, but Rin hears him all the same.

 

            “Stop being such a whiny brat and come over here to help out already,” the red-haired man sighs with a hint of exasperation, his fingers busy twirling the helpless pencil round and round. “So far, we’ve only got dark chocolate cupcake with vanilla bean frosting, chocolate cherry tartlet, and almond orange biscotti. That’s not nearly enough!”

 

            “Why are you getting so worked up over this, Rin?” Haruka makes his way back to his bed and drapes his blanket around his shoulders like a cape with his knees tucked inside the warmth of the cocoon. Rin rolls his eyes and snorts at Haruka’s pitiful, though still rather adorable, sight: black hair slightly dishevelled from fingers dragging through it whilst deep in thought, his entire body enveloped by the thick blanket, making him seem much younger and smaller, and a petulant pout is currently pulling down his lips.

 

            Sometimes, Rin finds it hard to believe that this talented pastry-maker is really twenty years old because Haruka has such a child-like mindset when he deals with people. Not to say that he’s naïve or unintelligent by any means, but he has a certain angle of seeing and analyzing things that is rarely observed in adults and a straight-forwardness that might seem harsh and rude to some.

 

            Maybe that’s it: Haruka Nanase never over-analyzes something to death, which is what Rin tends to do and which Haruka doesn’t seem to comprehend.

 

            Maybe it’s that at times unforgiving and at times much-needed frankness with which he speaks and acts that has caused Rin to kiss his rival-turns-friend in the first place.

 

            One thing leads to another, and well, here they are.

 

            “Because, oh great king of pastries, if mere mortals like myself fuck up again, Celeste will kick me out of the patisserie for good and I’ll lose my apprenticeship, which will in turn force me to return to my family in Japan in disgrace, and I will never be able to hold my head up high again,” Rin rambles in heavy sarcasm, a product of too much caffeine and too little sleep.

 

            “Now you’re just exaggerating,” Haruka grumbles and as a second thought, adds indignantly, “Also, I wish you’d stop giving me these ridiculous nicknames.”

 

            “Only if you’d stop acting like such a spoiled brat hiding inside your blankie and help me come up with more items for the menu,” Rin mocks him just a little, his attention promptly returning to the notes before him.

 

            “Not a spoiled brat,” Haruka mumbles unhappily, his head ducking further into the shelter of his comforter. “Too cold.”

 

            “Make some hot cocoa to warm yourself up then,” Rin suggests offhandedly.

 

            “Too much work,” the muffled voice comes from the bundle on the bed.

 

            Rin puts down his pen and slowly turns to the huddled figure that is Haruka with disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me, Haru?

 

            “I can hear you judging all the way here, and I don’t care. It’s freezing, I’m tired, and I’m not getting out,” Haruka rolls back against the wall with a soft thud.

 

            Within his warm blanket, Haruka can hear the other man sighs (he can also picture the red-haired man rolling his eyes), chair scraping against the floor as Rin makes his way across to the kitchen. A few minutes of some metal clanging against metal later, the earthy aromas of dark chocolate invade his nostrils and make him peep out of the covers despite the chilly air. “Rin?”

 

            “What is it?” he drawls.

 

            Haruka gingerly lets his toes touch the cool floorboard and hisses, but he rapidly gets to his feet before shuffling to where Rin stands, his back towards him as he stirs something at the stove.

 

            “What are you doing?” Haruka peeks over the taller man’s shoulder, which proves to be a little difficult due to the weight of the bulky quilt.

 

            “Making you some damn cocoa so you’d stop complaining,” Rin mumbles, turning off the heat over the steaming mug of milk placed in a pot of boiling water while he continues to stir the melted chocolate on the other element. The warmth hovering over his back didn’t escape Rin; a tiny smile threatens to appear on the corner of his lips, but he doesn’t want to give Haruka the satisfaction – not yet.

 

            “Thank you, Rin,” Haruka tiptoes and plants a kiss on the tip of Rin’s ear.

 

            “Haru, you…” he lowers his head in an attempt to hide the blush that’s beginning to bloom on his cheeks.

 

            “What?” An almost imperceptible smirk graces his lips as if he perfectly understands the effect he has over the seemingly irritated man.

 

            “Never mind,” Rin doesn’t finish his thought, only spooning a small amount of liquid chocolate and dipping a finger in to get a taste.

 

            But before he can do that, Haruka has come around, one hand wrapping around Rin’s slender wrist to still his movement. The blanket drops to their feet in a messy pile but neither man seems to notice. The lukewarm fluid that’s coating the tip of his pinkie is starting to drip.

 

            “Haru, what the hell are y – oh,” Rin isn’t sure what he’s expecting, but it definitely isn’t Haruka taking his finger into his mouth and, with glimmering blue eyes that are scouting for Rin’s reaction, sucking the bitter chocolate off and tongue licking any remnants off of his skin. The heat of his mouth and the absolutely illegal manner with which Haruka uses his tongue remind Rin what that mouth can be sucking other than his fingers, and the mere thought of the stoic man kneeling in front of him is not helpful at the moment at all.

 

            “Hmm,” Haruka pulls Rin’s digit out of his mouth, but not without a last lingering lick on the pad of his finger, earning a soft, reluctant whine from the red-haired man. “Too bitter. Better put a bit of sugar in.”

 

            “That’s all you’ve got to say?” Rin glares at the man standing before him, his usually pale complexion tinting pink. So maybe he’s warming up after all.

 

            Haruka blinks up at him innocently. “Did I miss something?”

 

            “You’re such a sly bastard,” Rin huffs, as he tries to drag his attention back to stirring the bowl of melted chocolate, but it’s getting harder and harder to focus on his current task when he feels the dark-haired man’s arms snaking around his waist from behind, his head laying lightly against his back, his breathing calm and measured. “Why do I even put up with you?” It’s a rhetorical question asked in a surprisingly gentle timbre, Rin’s finger tracing the contours of the back of Haruka’s hand; the embrace tightens.

 

            “You’re the one who asked me out, Rin,” Haruka reminds him, his voice still quiet. A hand wanders its way underneath Rin’s sweater and he can feel the muscles contract when his fingernails rake against a particularly sensitive spot. He hovers closer to Rin’s ear, breath warming his skin there. “Who’s putting up with whom?”

 

            “You’re a cheeky one, aren’t you?” He turns around to ruffle the man’s hair and only laughs when Haruka pushes his arm away, pouting in such a perfect five-year-old fashion that Rin is honestly quite impressed.

 

            “Going to do something about it?” Haruka’s making his way back to the bed with the blanket gathered in his arms.

 

            “Oi! Come back here and finish making your damn drink!” Rin switches off the stove and reels around to face Haruka in annoyance.

 

            “I think I’d rather drink something else now,” Haruka says, the barely-there suggestive tone doesn’t escape Rin, whose face instantly feels like it’s on fire. He’s sitting cross-legged on his messy sheets, posture languid and relaxed, but the blue of his eyes is glinting with mischief that Rin wants nothing more than to replace with desperate want, the composed nature of his voice Rin wants to turn into a storm of senseless babbling as he gets lost within the feeling of Rin inside of him.

 

            “Oh, do you now?” He leaves the spoon he’s stirring with on the counter, not caring that the melted chocolate is already pooling there.

 

            The way he stalks over towards Haruka is positively predatory; his crimson eyes narrow with intent and the grin on his full lips can only be described as shark-like.

 

            “Uh-huh,” Haruka backs away until he hits the wall and there’s nowhere else to go – nowhere else he’d want to go – eyes scanning for Rin’s every move.

 

            “Well then,” Rin leaves the sentence hanging there between them in the frigid air, his hand, still faintly smells of chocolate, snaking to the nape of Haruka’s neck as he lowers his body, swooping in to steal a kiss – all messy and dirty as he pries the other man’s mouth open insistently with his tongue. As their kisses turn more frenzied, Rin pushes him down onto the bed and crawls over him, legs trapping and hips pinning the man underneath to limit his movements.

 

            Haruka gasps when he feels Rin's hand rubbing against his front; he turns his head to the side so he can let out a stuttering breath while Rin takes his chance to leave a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses along the column of Haruka's neck, his hand moving to the hem of his cardigan so he can take it off.  


            The short moment when their lips are not connected, with Haruka's black locks still tousled from the removal of his sweater, Rin quietly marvels at the blush tainted on the man's usually pale cheeks, the harsh breathing, those sinfully red lips from being bitten and kissed so thoroughly, the bright blue of his eyes, and the beads of sweat that are beginning to form at the nape of his neck and brow.  


            Obviously he's not going to tell Haruka how lovely the pink looks on his skin, or how much Rin actually enjoys causing these reactions in him – so much so that it almost physically hurts when they are not touching.

 

            "Just how many layers are you wearing?" Rin raises a thin brow at the raindrop graphic t-shirt –a favourite of his – arranged over a navy blue, long-sleeved shirt.

 

            "It's cold," he exclaimsas a form of explanation when, with an evil grin, Rin places the back of his very decidedly cold hand against the warm skin of his tummy underneath Haruka's bunched-up, god knows how many pieces of clothing. "Rin, what the hell!" He tries to squirm away but his wrists are bound within the cage of Rin's hand in a second, pinned over his head, Rin straddling over his hips and his shirts riding up to reveal creamy skin that is just begging to be kissed.

 

            "And so I've heard," Rin decides to have mercy on him for now and throws the blanket over their bodies before pulling off the rest of Haruka’s clothes, though not without minimal protest from the man, which is quickly silenced by another searing kiss.

 

            "Getting warm yet?" Rin grins, his finger tracing abstract patterns on Haruka's chest and he pinches a nipple teasingly, earning a surprised yelp from Haruka, which is all the answer Rin needs, before he lowers his head to lick at the flesh to sooth the sting.

 

            "Rin..." Gentle fingers comb his dark red hair away from his forehead, and he looks up to meet his gaze, blinking dazedly, somewhat taken aback by the heated tenderness in his blazing irises.

 

            He doesn't deserve it – not with the way he keeps pushing Haruka's boundaries when it comes to their fierce competition at work. Baking may not be Haruka's passion, but he's talented and he works hard, and Rin truly appreciates and admires those qualities. He's also constantly frustrated at himself – questioning himself – and that internal anger gathers into a storm that lashes out during the most unexpected of times.

 

            Haruka is consistently on the receiving end, and still... Still, he's willing to look at him with those brilliant, trusting eyes, and kiss him with such passion as if his life depends on it, as if Rin is the only one that matters. Rin doesn't deserve any of it, but he will selfishly keep taking if Haruka is willing to give.

 

            Rin doesn't stop there; with blunt nails dragging along the other man's sides, he continues to kiss his way down – from chest, to ribs, to abdomen and finally, after giving his hipbone a light bite, which causes Haruka's fingers in his hair to tighten, Rin eases his sweatpants and boxers off and throws them unceremoniously behind him.

 

            “You’re wearing way too much clothes,” Haruka points out while he’s still lying beneath the red-haired man.

 

            “You’re absolutely right. I should fix that right away,” Rin laughs, pulling everything off his body with amazing efficiency as Haruka takes this opportunity to flip Rin over – he goes down surprisingly easily – so that now he’s the one on top, his lips tucked into a self-assured grin.

 

            Rin doesn’t mind the switch in position, to be honest; his hands settle on Haruka’s upper thighs and thumbs are drawing slow circles over his skin.

 

            “Is this better?”

 

            “Much,” Haruka plants a brief kiss on his lips before diving down without waiting for Rin’s response, and by the time Rin realizes that unbearable wet heat is Haruka’s mouth taking him in, his hands have found themselves grasping onto Haruka’s locks for dear life, his head turning one side to press against the pillow that smells of Haruka’s ocean-scented shampoo.

 

             “H-Haru, give me some warning next time, will you?” Rin gasps at an especially well-timed lick from root to tip on the underside, Haruka's dexterous fingers fondling his balls in the meantime and Rin is only capable of uttering a breathy "shit, Haru" after that; his voice is soon rendered into a mess of whines and single-syllable sounds.

 

            Haruka's answering hum merely sends some delicious vibrations down every inch of his body, his hips arching from the mattress as Haruka sucks and licks his length with more ardency, lapping up pre-cum and going up and down in varying speeds in response to the noises Rin makes. His eyes are closed and brows a little puckered in concentration.

 

            The heat at the pit of his abdomen coils tightly, like so many times before. Rin doesn't want it to end; the fire is eating him alive, burning away, and he'd like nothing more than to let go.

 

            "I-I'm almost there," Rin warns, voice soft and shuddering. "Haru." The dark-haired man surfaces back into Rin's field ofvision as he wipes his reddened mouth with the back of his hand; his chest rises and falls a little more rapidly than usual and his eyes are bright as the ocean reflecting sunlight.

 

            "Would you like to…” Haruka doesn’t meet Rin’s gaze and doesn’t finish the question, cheeks suddenly feeling hot as words leave him.

 

            “It’s not like you to be so shy,” Rin chuckles, caressing the other man’s burning cheek with his knuckle. “C’mere.” A hand rests on the back of Haruka’s neck and pulls him down for a swift, deep kiss, and he relaxes into it, bones melting when he feels the gentle touch of Rin’s fingers running through his hair even though what his tongue’s doing in his mouth is much less delicate, and Haruka is enjoying every bit of this, moaning when Rin bites his lower lip mercilessly as Haruka grinds his hips down against Rin’s in retribution.

 

             “Let me fuck you,” Rin utters hoarsely against the damp skin of his neck, where he can feel Haruka’s pulse dancing rapidly, and he nips that spot before soothing it with the flat of his tongue. The sensation of Haruka’s cock, head shining with pre-cum and hot and brushing against his own, is too much.

 

            “That’s what I was trying to a-ask… Rin, damn it,” he stutters towards the end when he feels Rin’s fingertips tracing the dips of his spine and steadily moving south.

 

            The red-haired man flashes him a mischievous smirk when he reaches his destination, one finger circling Haruka’s entrance and the man just gives up trying to give him any sort of sensible response, only bucking backwards, wanting to take in more. “A little eager, are we?” He squeezes one of Haruka’s butt cheeks teasingly and Haruka actually growls at him, to which Rin responds with muffled laughter, an arm thrown across his mouth in a careless fashion.

 

            Before Haruka can find the perfect excuse to kick him out of bed – it wouldn’t be the first time – Rin turns to the bedside table and manages to dig out a small bottle of lube and a silver square packet. Once he places them where he can reach easily, Rin pulls the smaller man down against his chest and in a brief second, Haruka lays breathless underneath him once more.

 

            “If we don’t finish that menu on time, I’m telling on you,” Rin tells him matter-of-factly, his tone all too collected for Haruka’s liking as if they’re just having another conversation and not naked in order to get ready to fuck, as he meticulously coats some lube on his fingers.

 

             “What will you say to Celeste? You’re sorry you didn’t finish your assignment because you’re too busy releasing your sexual tension with your rival?” Haruka wiggles hips with impatience but Rin holds him in place with one hand with his legs spread apart.

 

            Something Haruka just said doesn’t sit well with Rin; his heart stutters for a fleeting moment as the dark-haired man’s words sink in. He attempts to push it away for a later time, preferably when he’s not in such close proximity as the man he’s about to, quoting Haruka, ‘release his sexual tension with’. Those words seem too cold for what they are about to do – what they have been doing for weeks now.

 

            “How cruel, Haru. I thought our relationship has at least risen to the holy level of fuck buddies,” he replies instead, after a pause that’s too long to be natural, but he doesn’t give time for Haruka to ponder on it any further as he puts two fingers inside Haruka without another warning.

 

            “Ah, cold,” Haruka winces and glares at Rin accusingly once the shock gives way.

 

            “That seems to be the theme, yes,” Rin lowers himself on the bed, his aching cock rubbing against the bed but his sole attention is on Haruka’s face as his fingers slip in and out, crooking them slightly every once in awhile and eventually adding in another finger – every twitch of muscles, every time his tongue darts out to wet his lips as his breaths quicken, and every choked out moans and half-formed words falling from his throat, his head thrown back and hands grasping helplessly onto the sheets.

 

            “Hnng, Rin, p-please…” One of Haruka’s hands finds Rin’s face and he looks up, only to see the blue of his eyes even more radiant than before, now glimmering with something more animalistic – more pure and raw.

 

             “Since you ask so nicely,” Rin pulls his fingers out, and a disgruntle little noise comes from the other man. Regardless, Rin rips open the packet and rolls on the condom as quickly as he can without seeming too eager, which is rather difficult seeing as how Haruka himself isn't even attempting to hide his arousal anymore, his expression and body more vulnerable and open than Rin has ever seen. If this is what it takes for the usually uptight, inexpressive man to unwind into a beautiful, shivering mess, Rin doesn't mind doing this over and over again.

 

            "Hips up," Rin helps him by having a steady hold of Haruka's legs on either side of him as he lines himself up before cautiously nudging forward, a soft sound that's a mix of sharp inhale and guttural groan releases from the man underneath him, his eyes driven tightly shut as Rin gradually pushes himself into that tight, delicious heat, relishing the throbbing and Haruka's grasp on his biceps.

 

            "You okay, Haru?" Rin rests his forehead against Haruka's, feeling the wet strands of his hair and hardly caring, his breaths hot against the dark-haired man's lips.

 

            It takes three slow breaths for Haruka to manage an answer, "Yeah, just... just give me a minute".

 

            As a reply, Rin wordlessly kisses him, the touch delicate and soothing, nothing too bold or assertive. It's a calming kiss, one that keeps both men grounded.

 

            The moment seems to stretch on, but it probably only lasts a few seconds in reality, and Rin is content buried deep within Haruka, their breathing pattern beginning to synchronize without either one noticing.

 

            It's Haruka's gentle hand on his cheek that guides Rin back; he gives him a subtle nod and that's all Rin needs to start moving.

 

            Pulling out and feeling every inch of his skin crawling with electricity and incalescence before slamming back in, flesh against flesh, and nothing is more real than this: Haruka gripping his back and dragging his nails so desperately down his skin that they're no doubt leaving marks, his breathing ragged and every time Rin pushes back in, he'd let out these lovely whines of Rin's name and "please, ah, god", and Rin would reply with a low mutter close to his ear about how fucking good Haruka feels and how the sounds coming out of Haruka's mouth is making him even harder.

 

            "Tais-tois, trouduc!" A faint shout can be detected from next door in addition to some pounding on the wall for good measure.

 

            "Next door neighbour?" Rin raises his head, their movements temporarily ceased as they both glance at the direction the angry bark stems from.

 

            "It's Monsieur Gillarnormond." Also known as the grumpy, fifty-something-year-old French man who lives by himself, and his two equally lousy-tempered Chihuahuas.Haruka rolls his eyes, and Rin still can't figure out how he can manage to look so gorgeous while lying there naked and making such a childish facial expression. "He hates everyone... And their pets."

 

            “So…” Rin turns his attention back to the man still intimately trapped underneath his lean body, his lips twisting into a sly grin.

 

            “So?” A curious light makes his eyes seem even more lively, but it’s instantly replaced by something else as soon as Rin begins to rock his hips again. “Rin, what – hng…”

 

            “We have audience now,” Rin lowers his head to so he can speak more softly. “Perhaps we should let your neighbours hear how dirty and beautiful you sound when you’re begging and screaming for me, hmm?”

 

            “God, Rin!” Haruka slaps him on his forearm but the red head is almost certain that the exclamation is due to him hitting the right spot and not for his comment. “You-you are such a weirdo. Do you get turned on by that kind of stuff?” His nails raking down Rin’s back are relentless, so is the man’s azure gaze that never let go of his crimson ones.

 

            “I get turned on by you,” Rin answers honestly, and he decides that that’s the end of their conversation because god-fucking-damn-it, the more he drives himself into Haruka (his pale but strong arms encircling Rin’s waist, holding him unbelievably closer, so close that Rin thinks he can’t breathe but that’s okay if it means they can be fused into one), the more the spiralling heat in his groin grows like an uncontrollable flame, winding tighter and tighter as he begins to lose his rhythm, their breaths heavy and voices torn and rough.

 

            The pounding on the wall has ended some time ago, the owner possibly giving up at long last, or the two men tangling together are simply too lost in each other to notice.

 

            "S-so close, fuck," Rin utters against the side of Haruka's neck, his flushing cock in his hand between their stomachs as Rin strokes him in time with his thrusts. Haruka's warm fingers laced with his, pulling and occasionally rubbing over the head as they both desperately want to release.

 

Droplets of sweat coat their bodies, and Haruka doesn’t remember why he was complaining about being cold earlier because the warmth that surrounds him now is immense, almost suffocating but not really. He can get used to this, his arms around the red-haired man who gets angry a lot, always yells, has awful fashion sense, and has the most determined, driven heart when it comes to things that matter to him the most.

 

            They are polar opposites: Haruka always quietly observing from the sidelines while Rin is the type to run head-on without a second thought – brash, rude, a hot-head. He’s all those things but Haruka is beginning to learn another side of the man as well the more they spend time together.

 

            It’s obvious to everyone at first glance – they are two entirely different kinds of individuals, though both equally stubborn. They fight, they argue, they make up; it’s a cycle.

 

The dark-haired man referred to their relationship as friendly rivals, but it hardly encompasses what they are currently doing now – not just the sex, but the talks late into the night, dates at the cinema or at a cute Italian café when they take turns trying a variety of cakes and cackling when they poke fun at the subpar quality of the pastries and coffee, the occasional sleepovers at each other’s place…

 

            Haruka still wasn’t sure why Rin had asked him out the day after they shared that kiss at the back alley of the patisserie. He figured it would only be a one-time incident, and that he just happened to be at the scene when Rin needed someone to listen to him at the time. It was meant to be a consoling gesture. Haruka didn’t think that one, innocent kiss would take him – them – any further.

 

            And yet, here they are.

 

            They find each other’s lips and the kisses are chaotic and urgent; there are teeth biting and tongue delving in to taste, both men needing to consume, to devour – to fall and let go. The rhythm of their hands grows uneven and desperate, the need to release rising; Rin dives deeper and drives harder into the pool of heat; Haruka’s choked out words become more of senseless babbling – beautiful and broken as they fall like bursting stars into Rin’s ears.

 

            Haruka comes first, a raw cry crawling out of his throat, eyes squeezing shut, and ribbons of milky white spurting all over their intertwined fingers and on their stomachs; he greedily swallows gulps of air into his lungs as Rin continues to pound into him deep and long while he bites his lower lip so hard that it’s close to drawing blood until he, too, climaxes, shaking and burying his head into the crook of Haruka’s neck, mouthing the skin there and holding his frame tight.

 

            Rin stays inside of Haruka, the silence between them filled with heavy breathing and unsaid sentiment; he lets the waves of pleasure subside gently like the sea’s currents washing up the shore. When his heartbeat gradually slows down and his limbs are capable of moving again, Rin pulls out with a groan and rolls over to his side.

 

            After they clean themselves up with a discarded shirt, they stretch out next to each other, the sweat steadily cooling off on their prickling skin, their arms not quite touching but close enough to feel each draw and release of breath. The mental image of them reclining on the bed side-by-side and staring at the ceiling after sex reminds Haruka of one of those awkward scenes from cliché romance films.

 

            A sliver of breeze whispers across his skin, and Haruka shivers despite his best effort to stay motionless. Sensing this, Rin picks up the comforter that lays forgotten on the floor and throws it over them, and Haruka finally turns around, pulling the blanket tighter around himself up to his chin, his raven forelocks falling into his eyes.

 

            “We’re such a cliché,” Rin suddenly bursts out laughing, and when Haruka gives him a questioning glance, he continues, “We started out being archenemy that can’t stand each other, and I mean, look at us now. We are the definition of the opposites attract trope.”

 

            A short moment passes when neither says anything, only maintaining eye contact quietly, curious crimson on calming cerulean.

 

            “What is it, Haru?” Rin swallows, throat all of a sudden feeling too dry.

 

            “About what you said earlier…” Haruka starts but isn’t sure how to go on.

 

            “I’ve said a lot of shit. Care to be a little more specific?”

 

            “What you said about our relationship,” those blue irises suddenly seem resolute in demanding answers. “You said – you said we’re fuck buddies.” Haruka rarely cusses so when he does, the sound is strangely grating. And coming out of the man’s composed tone, the term sounds even colder, more detached.

 

            “And you disagree?” Rin raises a critical brow.

 

            “I – ” He looks away for a second before confronting him once more, “I don’t know. But it just doesn’t seem right… What we have – what we are right now – it’s more than that, isn’t it?” Rin can sense a crack on the wall of ice in that question, behind which is a territory that Rin has no experience in dealing with. Will there be a destructive snow storm, or something worse?

 

            Rin raises his hand to Haruka’s face, softly brushing his bangs back so he can look clearly into those vibrant eyes. He doesn’t want to admit its existence, but it’s there – that drop of water that causes a ripple effect the moment he set eyes on Haruka Nanase, splintering the surface of his heart that was once calm and frozen in time. That seemingly tiny, insignificant water droplet has ripped through him since then, creating a sentimental thunderstorm that threatens to drown him at times and refreshes him with spring raindrops at others.

 

            “What do you want us to be?” Rin asks, voice drops to a lower note. He asks himself this at the same time, and he’s not sure if what he feels for the man before him can be considered as love. Love is a strange word, and a stranger emotion still.

 

            Haruka blinks, a little surprised at the question. “I don’t know,” he says again. Haruka doesn’t lie; his gaze shifting downward as he worries his lower lip in deliberation. “Friends with benefits? Lovers? Does it matter what label we give it?”

 

            And this is when Rin realizes that yes, it does matter. It matters more to him than he has initially thought it would, and it hits him right in the gut, leaving him breathless, vulnerable.

 

            "Haru, I l – " His words are stopped by Haruka's fleeting kiss.

 

            "Don't," he whispers, eyes that are as silent as glacier ice but as stormy as the rousing ocean gazing back at him. "Don't say things you don't mean."

 

            “You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Rin protests.

 

           “Trust me, I know.” Haruka sends him a perceptive look before pulling him in for another lingering, soft kiss. When he moves back with a meagre few inches in between them, Haruka smiles at him: tenderness in the corner of his lips and kindness in his usually impassive eyes.

 

            “Let’s just…” Haruka yawns, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Let’s just take things a step at a time?”

 

            It’s been only a few weeks since that kiss. Maybe he’s overthinking again. Maybe it’s as simple as Haruka says – why give it a name? Isn’t it enough that they have each other for now? They’re still young and the future stretches out before them in a winding road full of forks and obstacles; they may be together till the end, or they may end up on different paths, but what matters the most is now.

 

            At this very moment, Rin Matsuoka feels content.

 

            “Alright.” Rin kisses his forehead lightly and Haruka lets out a pleased hum, a sleepy smile on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, that’s some terrible smut writing I’m SO SORRY. It’s been really fun writing some RinHaru though! It’s been difficult for me to think of those two in terms of romantic context but in this AU, I just want to keep writing about Rin being over-friendly and Haru not really minding, and then Makoto being jealous but the three of them will just end up having a threesome (which MAY OR MAY NOT be a thing I will write eventually). Anyway, hope y’all enjoy this, and for those who stay for the MakoHaru, DON’T WORRY, I’ll still write about them. (I’m just a piece of multishipper trash, that’s all.)


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